Blood
by necro omen13
Summary: Miles of travel, months of running, and still the blood wouldn't wash away. WARNING: vague, but major, spoilers for the end of Dragon Age 2.


**Title: **_Blood_  
**Rating:** _PG_  
**Spoilers:** _Vague, but major, spoilers for Dragon Age 2. Because of this, please be warned that reviews may contain spoilers._  
**Summary:** _Miles of travel, months of running, and still the blood wouldn't wash away._  
**Characters:** _The entire group of companions.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Nope, don't own it. But I think you probably knew that._  
**Warnings:** _None that I can think of, if you think there are any, hit me up via review or PM. I will warn for gratuitous use of the comma and semi-colon however._  
**Notes:** _This fic is slightly AU. Hawke is an F!Rogue, but Carver lived instead of Bethany and became a Templar, leaving Kirkwall with the group. Also, this fic seems to ignore Varric's conversations with the Seeker, as you will see._  
**Continuity:** _Several of the non!canon events mentioned in this fic are expanded on and explained in another, unrelated, DA2 fic I'm attempting to write, but hopefully you'll be able to follow them anyway._

* * *

The blood was there when she stayed her blade and spared his life.

It was there when the Knight-Commander breathed her last and the fighting ceased.

It was there when they fled the city; Captain and pirate; merchant and slave; blood-mage and Templar. Champion and abomination.

* * *

The blood was there before she knew it; stained into her being as she was trudging through sewers and searching through rock.

It was there when she ignored her suspicions and allowed herself to be blackmailed by ideology and love.

It was there when the distraction was done and he wouldn't look her in the eye.

The blood was there when she washed her hands for the hundredth time.

It was there when her lyrium-burned companion sought her out to say it wasn't her fault.

It was there when he tried to make her understand, tried to heal her inside and out, the way he did before he drenched both their souls in blood.

* * *

Months passed, and the stain was still there.

It got deeper when the news reached them of the war with Tevinter.

It got darker when the Grey Wardens were exiled from Ferelden.

It seemed un-washable when they heard of child mages being slaughtered or made tranquil, and rumours came of the Rite of Annulment performed across the Circles of Thedas.

* * *

The stain became too much when they found another burned farm; a couple cut down in the entrance, and a pair of twins dead in the bedroom.

It became too much when she was forced to spill yet more blood to escape when they were recognised while passing through a small village.

It became too much when he lost control more and more, Vengeance overwhelming, and she struggled to remember the healer she fell in love with.

* * *

The blood became a target as they were hunted across borders. Templars, soldiers, vigilantes, mercenaries, assassins and even mages, all wanting blood for blood.

They sought shelter in an abandoned Chantry, and the blood on their hands sang at the perverse reversal.

They turned and fought when the doors burst open and the Templars flooded in.

They rallied and yelled when their Champion was knocked to the ground, weapons skidding across marble.

They cried out as one as the Knight lifted her sword and brought it sweeping down.

They fell as one when Vengeance won out and everything exploded into energy and fire and _pain_.

And the blood sang, in victory, forever a stain upon the mage.

* * *

The blood became a danger when she would not eat, would not sleep. Templar, blood-mage, slave, merchant, Captain, pirate and abomination all watching and worried.

She turned with them when the doors opened, drawing her weapons to fight once again.

She ducked and parried and slashed and stabbed, defending her companions as well as herself.

She disappeared into shadow, re-appearing to shed more blood to protect the one she had loved.

She gasped and choked as the air was knocked from her and she crashed to the ground.

She gazed up into the eyes of the Knight and ceased the struggle for her weapons as the sword raised.

And as the Knight's stoke fell, the blood washed clean, no more a stain on the Champion.

* * *

**AN: **_I always have trouble with Author's Notes, I always want the reader to understand exactly what I'm trying to say, but this time I'm going to gag myself and just hope that someone will be able to understand the references and meanings I put in the piece._

_As this was not beta'd, if you notice any grammar or spelling mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them._

_This will also be cross-posted on Livejournal and probably Deviantart if you feel the need to have a longer conversation about the story._

_Reviews are like lyrium, you get shaky when you don't have any._


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